


The Fights

by Chandelier_s_Notebook



Series: The Gutter [1]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Betting, Child Labour, Fighting, Gen, Semi-Realistic Skywars, Tournaments
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-13 09:21:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29399706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chandelier_s_Notebook/pseuds/Chandelier_s_Notebook
Summary: First Come First Serve. Free Meal Guaranteed For Those Participating In The Tournament.The Gutter was where he was born and bread. It wasn't a kind living, people did what they needed to to survive. Good thing gamboling addicts were willing to pay for their living, if you put on a good show.Why do people like fighting so much?
Series: The Gutter [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2159727
Kudos: 7





	1. The Gutter is a fun place to be. (read: sarcastic)

It’s a place full of run down buildings.  
Low rent.  
Guarded families.  
Law enforcement. (for all it does)  
Gangs. Street rats.  
And money.

Not the good money.  
None of that minimum wage living.  
None of that work hard, play hard cash.  
No working your way out. That was for the lucky ones. The ones closer to the edge.  
It was a dog eat dog world the further in one went.

The Fights were where the big money was.  
The bets were everything.  
It was sport.  
It was amusement.  
It was comprised of children.

Bare-knuckled. Flat ground. Cracks two meters deep breaking up the battlefield.

It was always bloody. The bloodier the better.  
For the audience.  
Not for the ~~kids~~ fighters.  
But for the spectacle. The bloodier the more interesting.

It was five dollars admission to get in the door. It had to be worth it.

The organizers weren’t monsters. They had some dignity.  
There were always enough medical staff on hand.  
The combatants got a meal for arriving. And the winner got a cash prize.  
The rest of the fees collected went to bettering the arena.

It was a business after all.


	2. The Blade

The boy walked through the back door to one of the better looking buildings in the Gutter. It was also bigger than most, but how many building did he really enter? What did he have to compare it to?

He was always filled with apprehension when he walked in. This was not a happy place to be. But it payed.

Well not really. He’d have to win the night’s tournament to get payed. But he was guaranteed a meal at some point during the night.

He polished off the bread he’d gotten from the nice baker a few blocks away. Took a deep breath. And signed his name on the tournament bracket.

There were only 32 spots available. They always filled quickly. The winner’s money was good. And even if you didn’t win the free meal was worth the risk of injury. Well, not really risk per say. If you signed up you were bound to be hurt.

More where doing it for the meal alone. Some strived for the money.  
 ~~To be honest they all needed it.~~

He had arrived early. He had signed up for one of the later round. Though he knew he would fight before then. During the tournament, the organizers had some fan demanded fights. If you got injured before your official tournament fight. That wasn’t anyone’s problem but your own.

He was one of the first to be entered. When the place was starting up, they coerced eight of them into the ring. Promised them a bed for the night. Which they did receive.

He won.

They brought him back the next time. And the next. And the next. And the next.

Not every kid that entered came back. Some stopped after one. Some, after a few.

But Techno never stopped showing up.

He didn’t win every one. He couldn’t be one his game every night.

Eventually they stopped sending someone to grab him. He would simply arrive on his own.

Slowly word started to spread. Word about the fights. Bigger bets where happening. More children were showing up, the promise of a bed and a meal captivating their attention.

~~Isn’t the Gutter a lovely place to call home?~~

The organizers didn’t need to coerced children to fight for their amusement anymore. They upped to tournament size. They moved establishments. Bigger and better things.

They didn’t need to entice participants anymore. They were still doing the cash prize. But no more need for a place to sleep or a meal.

Until he didn’t show. He needed that meal. If they wouldn’t feed him, he could get money and food elsewhere.

There was the nice baker that would give him unsold stock at the end of the night. And he could always ask passersby on the street. The cute kid factor worked for a while. The scuffed appearance from fighting every night attracting sympathy left and right.

> _They needed him. He brought in spectators. Spectators brought in money. Entrance fee. Food. Drinks. The bets themselves._
> 
> _**It was a good thing he liked coming.** _

## First Come First Serve. Free Meal Guaranteed For Those Participating In The Tournament.

Medical staff on standby. Both for everyday fighting injuries and falling down into the shallow ravines. B ~~ut mostly for the falling.~~

And he did like coming.

It gave him something to do. Something to look forward to at the end of the day.

Eventually, whispers of The Blade escape the ring.  
 ~~If you could call it a ring. It was a flat space of dirt with cracks two meters deep breaking up the battlefield.~~

That he was scary. A nightmare.

_it’s bare knuckle fighting  
why is he getting called The Blade?_

Though, if you asked the baker. You would hear that he was always polite and formal. Albeit with a permanent scowl on his face.

~~Who wouldn’t?~~


End file.
